


The Sixty-seventh Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Series: The Senad Sentinel Tidbits Files by Many and Varied [67]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Senslash Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist





	The Sixty-seventh Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

## The Sixty-seventh Sentinel Tidbits File

by Many and Varied

Author's disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, these tidbits aren't mine. Honestly, I'm not responsible for any of it! 

* * *

Rating: the whole range  
Pairings: J/B (mostly!) 

* * *

Tidbit #1 

ObSenad: (see the first part of this in the 65th tidbits file; bit 8) 

Almost a week and gone by since Jim and Blair had left Simon's office after the arrival of the mysterious envelope. It had been a long week. Whatever was in that envelope had rattled Simon bad and everyone in the department was paying the price. He snapped and growled, and while he had always done that, it was different now. Nothing made him happy! Everything needed to have been done not yesterday, but ten days ago. When neither evidence nor leads could be found on one case he groused wanting to know why everyone was incompetent all of a sudden. But Jim knew that something was really wrong when Simon almost reduced the muffin lady to tears over not having any pastries with cream fillings. 

Knowing that he was taking his life into his own hands Jim grabbed Simon's arm and steered him from the trembling muffin lady toward the office, everyone in Major Crimes working as if this was an every day occurrence, yet still sneaking worried looks and glances at them. Blair opened the door and had the blinds down by the time they entered, shutting the door securely them. 

Simon pulled his arm from Jim's grasp, and turned an icy gaze on the detective. "This had better be good, Ellison, after that little stunt." 

"I should be the one saying that, Simon. What the hell has that muffin lady ever done to you?" Jim asked pointing through the wall towards the woman that he could clearly hear on the other side of Major Crimes. Her heart was beating loudly as one of the detectives made soothing calming sounds to her. "Is there some kind of new law that I don't know about that says that all muffin stands need to have cream filled Danish on hand at all times?" 

Simon's jaw worked for several seconds with no sound coming out before he realized how bizarre all of this was. Slumping down into his chair all the anger draining out of him leaving a very tired Simon in its place. "I really made an ass out of myself out there, didn't I?" he asked not looking up as he rubbed his hands over his face. 

"Simon, you have been making an ass out of yourself all week." 

Simon's head snapped up at that, but only saw the face of his friend, Jim. Not the detective, the hard-ass cop, or the sentinel, but Jim, his friend; and what he was, was someone that was worried about him. Looking past Ellison was Blair, looking back at him with those big blue eyes full of nothing but support. Simon let out a big long sigh. 

"Simon," said Jim, sitting down across the table from him, his hand reaching out to touch Simon on the arm. "We know that there is something wrong. You have been in a shitty mood, snapping at everyone all week, and don't think that we haven't missed you glancing over your shoulder as if you expect someone to jump out at you." Jim paused. "It has something to do with whatever was in the envelope, doesn't it?" 

"Come on, Simon, there is nothing that you can't tell us," added Blair, as Simon's face clouded over at that last comment. 

"Tonight. I'll tell you tonight," came a weary response. With that Banks hurried both men out of his office and tried to decide if what he was going to do was the right thing. 

* * *

That evening came all too soon for the black police captain and before he knew it he was standing before Ellison's door getting ready to knock. As always the door swung open just before his fist could connect and the odd feeling that always accompanied that action made Simon pause to wonder at the strangeness in his life. After all, if Jim could trust him with his secret then maybe Simon could do the same with the ghosts of his past. 

Following the large detective into the living room where Blair was waiting, Simon refused the seat offered and just thrust the envelope at Jim. Shooting a curious glance at his boss, Ellison undid the string tie, upending the envelope and letting the contents spill on to the coffee table. 

The glossy 8x10 pictures that covered the small table didn't seem to make much sense in their random pattern so Jim picked up the closest to get a better look. The picture was a distance shot of a woman. Though she was not facing the camera, Jim found himself somewhat drawn to the woman's unusual beauty. 

Though there was nothing close to scale her against, the detective could tell she was tall. Her skin was dark and looked as smooth as silk. Looking at picture after picture, the sentinel felt something about them nagging him in the back of his mind. Like there was something here he should be noticing, but wasn't. 

Wondering what it was about these pictures that was getting Simon all into a dither, Jim picked up another set of photos and felt his eyes practically jump out of his head. The camera had finally gotten a close-up shot of the face, and despite the tasteful makeup, perfectly done shoulder length hair, Jim had no problem making out the face of a several-yearsyounger Simon Banks. 

Quickly scanning back over the pictures, Jim was able to see that all of them were Simon, though anyone who didn't know Simon would probably never know it was him. After all Jim had looked through more than half of the glossies before he realized it. Now that he knew it, he had no problem picking out the larger shoulders and thicker chest, not counting the false breasts that is. 

Looking up at Simon, Jim did his best to find a plausible answer. Feeling himself relax when he felt he had it, Jim smiled up at his boss. "Simon, vice must have loved having you. I mean none of the guys I have seen decked out, look half as good as this." Jim glanced at his roommate just in time to see the light dawn as well and a crafty smile creep over the young man's face. 

"I was not in vice." 

"What?" 

Simon let out a deep breathe, took a moment to screw up his courage, raised his head, and repeated himself. "I wasn't in vice at the time." 

"So you were on a case for another department. Who cares. It's not like anyone can hold that over you, Simon. I mean I think that everyone has had to dress in drag at least once. You know, it's like some kind of initiation." Jim smiled at the last. 

"Jim?! You did drag?" The young anthropology student looked at his roommate, eyes wide, face a combination of curiosity and humor. Jim just looked at his roommate and raised an eye brow, choosing not to comment. 

"Guys! You are not listening to me. I was not in vice! I was not on a case. I was taking a vacation that was in no way related to my job!" 

The silence that hung in the room after Simon's outburst was deafening as well as smothering. Banks kept his eyes on the two men who were most likely now his "ex-best friends" and waited. 

Ellison's face, while not holding the look of disgust that had been expected, did have a look of confusion. Brow wrinkled in concentration the larger detective looked at the photos in question then back to his captain as if trying to determine how his conclusion could have been so far off. 

Sandburg, for his part, just stood rooted to the spot, his blue eyes wide with surprise. But as usual the confusion didn't last, at least not with Blair's brain working on the problem. In no time Blair was smiling, his face threatening to break from the strain, his expressive eyes snapping with humor. 

"Well, really, Simon. Who would have guessed? You a cross dresser, and quite a looker at that," the last remark said with a bobbing of eyebrows. 

-the end- 

Banshee  


* * *

Tidbit #2 

ObSenad: 

"God-dammit! This thing worked last time. Christ, I hate these fucking machines!" Blair cursed at the computer in front of him. 

Jim looked up from the book he was reading, "What's wrong this time, Chief?" he asked. 

"I've scanned this card in and am using the photo-shop program to make it into wallpaper. But I need to add the text from inside the card to the front. Otherwise the card doesn't make sense! I did this the other day and it worked fine. Now, whenever I click for it to accept the text, the text block disappears. It's so damn frustrating!" Blair ranted. 

Coming over behind Blair, Jim leaned over and looked at the card as it appeared on the screen. On a very pale green background, it showed a guy behind a desk, with a card that said "S. Freud, Psychiatrist" and underneath it said "According to my shrink, there comes a time in your life when you have to look in the mirror and say to yourself..." and further down the card in white print, was "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA". Jim chuckled because with his Sentinel sight he could read the punchline. "Hey, that's cute, Blair. But you know the punchline might be easier to read if you did it in black, instead of white. The white just blends in with the background too much," Jim advised. 

Blair clicked on the text colour selection and switched it from white to black, feeling so damn silly for overlooking the obvious. "God-damn!" he laughed. "No wonder I couldn't read it. I'll have to erase those other 'Ha Ha's." 

"No, leave them in. It makes it look like his laughter is echoing," Jim said. 

Opening it as a screen saver, Blair could see the white text and decided to leave it, it fit the thing. 

"Thanks, Jim," Blair said, reaching up to give the older man a quick kiss. "Don't know what I'd do without you!" 

\--the end-- 

Stacy  


* * *

Tidbit #3 

ObSenad: 

**THUD**

"Dammit!" Jim poised to throw himself against the heavy iron door again, but Blair stopped him. 

"Jim, you already know that doesn't work, all right? We're just going to have to try some other way to get through." 

"Like what, Chief?" 

"I don't know... use a key?" Blair held up an old church key, a mischievous grin on his face. 

"You little shit, why didn't you _tell_ me..." 

"Do you want me to kiss those bruises better, or not?" 

Blessings, 

Justine  


* * *

Tidbit #4 

ObSenad: 

As he turned his key in the lock of the front door of the loft, Jim wondered what the whoomp-whish, whoomp-whish sound he could hear coming from the other side of the door was. 

He found out a moment after he stepped through the door and a lasso neatly sailed over his head and shoulders, before the rope was tugged and drew tight around mid-chest level pinning his arms down. 

Dressed in faded blue denim, chaps, well worn riding boots, a blue cotton shirt and a cow hide vest, Blair grinned and hauled in his partner. 

"Howdy, Pardner." 

"You've got five seconds to explain, before I rope, tie and brand _you_ , Sandburg." 

"How does two business class tickets to fly to Texas sound to you, pardner?" 

"Damn, and here I was hoping the answer would be: I'm feeling kinky." 

Blair grinned and pulled a mini branding iron out of his back pocket. The grin grew wider as Ellison's gaze traveled to the glistening surface of the branding iron that he'd painted with harmless food dye. 

"That too, Pardner." 

The End... 

Red  


* * *

Tidbit #5 

ObSenad: 

"What's wrong, Chief?" Jim put down the newspaper and looked at his partner, who was swearing softly at his laptop in a language Jim didn't recognize \- the tone made the content clear. 

"I'm trying to finish a story for the writing list I'm on, but I can't find the information I need to make sure I'm describing this bit right, and I'm not sure where to look for it." He scowled at the screen, chewing on his lip, and stabbed at a few keys. "I lost everything when my laptop got dumped into the river during that last case, remember?" 

"Well, don't kill this one, too." Jim slipped behind his irritable partner and slid his hands under his shirt, nipping the side of his neck. "Got any questions I could help answer?" 

Blair slid around with a sultry grin and all questions were answered wordlessly for the next few hours. 

-fini- 

Larissa  


* * *

Tidbit #6 

ObSenad: 

Jim tossed his keys into the basket while closing the loft door with his foot. His lover was so deeply engrossed in his laptop he wasn't even aware of his entrance. 

It was times like these -- when Blair wore an expression of deep concentration -- that Jim fell in love all over again. 

Walking over to the table, Jim fondly tugged a dark curl causing Blair to jump. 

"Jim! You're home!" 

"Very good, Chief. Maybe _you_ should be the detective." 

"Ha, ha. And maybe you should be a comedian. Jerk." 

"What are you working on, Chief. You didn't even hear me come in. I could have been just any psychopath waltzing in here. The door wasn't even locked, AGAIN." 

"Sorry. I just forgot. Again. And you're NOT just any psychopath... you're MY psychopath." 

"Blair, you know how I worry about you. You need to be more careful. Maybe some positive reinforcement would help you remember next time?" 

<many hours, tubes of lube, and one worn out door lock later...>

"Wow, Jim... That was...wow!" 

"So, what was it that you were so wrapped up in, anyway?" 

"Oh, yeah. Well, you know I made reservations for my trip to San Francisco at a hotel near the Civic Center on Market Street? But then I started wondering if that was really the best location. You know how I like to go to coffee shops to people watch, and just kick around window shopping and stuff. I won't have a car to drive to any of the attractions, so I was trying to find out if I'm in a good location. I just can't seem to find the right information, though. I checked some travel guides out at the library and I've been browsing the 'net for days, but I'm really not finding out any helpful information." 

"Haven't any of your friends been to San Francisco, Chief?" 

"You'd think someone would've been there. But everyone I've asked, hasn't been there for years." 

"Why don't you ask for help on that list you subscribe to? Weren't you just telling me how helpful they are to each other? Surely there's someone on the list that is familiar with the area and can tell you if the Market Street area is a good place to stay." 

"Hey, Jim, that's a great idea! But I hate to bother them... I mean, they probably don't mind...but I feel like a pest. I can probably get around okay, it's just nice to hear from someone who's actually been there, you know?" 

"Yeah, I know. But now I want to know if you've learned your lesson about locking the door, Chief. I don't want to come home and find it unlocked again. I want you safe." 

"I'll try harder to remember, Jim. At least I won't have any trouble remembering for the next three or four days! But Jim, I seem to be having trouble remembering LOTS of things lately. Maybe you could help ?" 

<end>

DebraC  


* * *

Tidbit #7 

Seuss Verse: Intro -- I love Dr. Seuss. The man gave and gives such joy. He will live forever through his writings. Of all his wonders, the one I love best is How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Among the delightful songs is "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch." So, altered and refocused, I give you Blair singing "You're a buff one, Mr. Cop." Please feel free to sing along. 

grinchly yours  
MJ  
(With affectionate apologies to Dr. Seuss.) 

* * *

You're a buff one, Mr. Cop.  
You really are such bliss.  
You're as cuddly as a teddy..  
You're as charming as a kiss,  
Mr. Cop. 

You're a hot studmuffin  
With a silky big cock. 

You're a wonder, Mr. Cop.  
Your heart's a toffee roll  
Your brain is full of laughter.  
You've got chocolate in your soul,  
Mr. Cop. 

I couldn't leave you with a  
boner like that nine-inch pole. 

You're a rare one, Mr. Cop.  
You have magic in your smile.  
You have all the tender sweetness  
Of a panther on the prowl,  
Mr. Cop. 

Given the choice between the two of you  
I'd take you, 'specially on the prowl. 

You're a cut one, Mr. Cop.  
You've a perfect godlike chest.  
Your mouth is full of teasing words  
Your mind is full of lust,  
Mr. Cop. 

The three words that best describe you  
are, and I quote, "stud , Stud, STUD." 

You're a magnet, Mr. Cop.  
You're the king of buffly men.  
Your voice's a deep inflaming song  
With unwavering yen,  
Mr. Cop. 

Your soul is an amazing storehouse overflowing  
with the most delightful assortment of alluring  
ideas imaginable  
Tangled up in jangled up thoughts. 

You fascinate me, Mr. Cop,  
with a fantastic super-puck.  
You're a Kama Sutra icon  
and you drive a carnal truck,  
Mr. Cop. 

You're a three-decker basket and beefcake  
sandwich  
With passionfruit sauce. 

* * *

Tidbit #8 

ObSenad: 

"Jim, my brain is fried, how would you answer Rosy? She wants to know what ACE means." 

"Huh? What 'ace' means?" 

"She's Italian, Jim, and on the Watchman list." 

"Oh, okay. It has several meanings -- ask her if these are what she means: 

\--Ace - the highest card in a deck of playing cards OR 

\--the best air plane pilot [for shooting down enemy planes] OR 

\--number one person as in [you are ace or he/she is aces]. 

Okay? There are, no doubt, a few more ways the word 'ace' is used, it just depends on how she wants to use it." 

"Okay, thanks, Jim." 

<tap tap tap...send...>

"Okay, now for my ACE cop..... <leering grin and pounce>....mmmmmmmmmmm" 

<odd noises sound from the pounced cop>

Later... 

"Thanks for the help, Jim." <sated grin>

Sleepy-eyed cop with sated smile, "Anytime babe, anytime..." 

-end- 

Tricia  


* * *

Tidbit #9 

ObSenad: 

"Chief, you're a number one, ace rimmer!" Jim purred. 

Blair wiped his mouth and sat up. "Ace Rimmer? Man, I loved that show." 

"Uh... What?" 

"Red Dwarf! You called me Ace Rimmer!" 

Jim blinked in confusion before replying, "O-kay, never mind. Please just get back to what you were doing." 

-finis- 

Linda  


* * *

Tidbit #10 

ObSenad: 

It had all been arranged so quickly that Blair still could not believe he was really here standing with Jim, and a quarter of a million other people, on the banks of the Liffey watching the Aer Lingus SkyFest. Officers O'Kelly and Maguire had been forced to pull out of the contingent representing the Cascade Police Department in Dublin's St. Patrick's Day Parade and Jim had stepped forward to say he and Blair would make up the numbers. Jim had dusted off his dress uniform and organised their packing and passports. Now here they were, Jim with his senses tuned down, enjoying the huge fireworks display, perfectly synchronised to rock and folk music tracks. Under cover of darkness and the crowd he held tightly onto Blair's hand, their closeness increasing the enjoyment. As the display ended they followed the crowd down along the quays and into O'Connell Street. Then they headed to 'The Widow Scallan's', the meeting point for the Cascade cops and managed to squeeze into the crush before the second session of traditional music began. The 'craic' and the Guinness and the Galway oysters being good they laughed and joked with the others until the noisy pub quieted. A young girl stood up and began to sing, unaccompanied.... 

....my soul soars enchanted, as I hear the sweet lark sing, in the clear air of the day... For a tender beaming smile to my hope has been granted and tomorrow he will hear all my fond heart would say... I will tell him of my love, all my soul's adoration and I think he will hear me and will not say me nay... It is this that gives my soul all its joyous elation. As I hear the sweet lark sing in the clear air of the day.... 

Their eyes met and held and leaving behind the appreciative applause they walked towards their hotel intent on creating some pyrotechnics of their own. 

-end- 

Claire  


* * *

Tidbit #11 

ObSenad: 

"Ah, dammit! No please, don't do this to me, no no, ah shit!!!" 

"What's the matter Chief?" Jim asked, glancing up from his newspaper. 

"My stupid, stupid, idiot completely brainless email service decided that today was a wonderful day to dump everything I had saved!!!!! And I only had three stories left to print off my Watchman X-rated Fiction list. Now they're completely gone and I don't have the author's names or more than a piece of the titles!!!!! AHHHH!!!" 

"Relax Blair, tell me the plot lines and maybe I'll remember you mentioning the titles. There aren't that many stories you hang on to." 

"Well, one of them is Brian (Blair) in college, ya know, he was only sixteen right? And he's kinda fantasizing about someone that reminds the reader of Joseph <Jim>. It's got 'sixteen' in the title but when I looked it up in the Archive, I got the sixteenth Watchman snippets file and that was it." 

"He was wearing red silk, a robe or an oversized shirt or something? And he was glad his roommate wouldn't be back for the evening so he'd have time to indulge?" 

"Uh-huh, you remember the title?" 

Jim shook his head slowly, "It's like it's on the tip of my tongue, but I can't think of it." 

Blair's hands beat a tattoo on the tabletop and he made a frustrated growling noise. 

"So what're the other two?" His partner interrupted. 

"Huh? Oh. It was an AU with shapeshifters but it wasn't Sorka's series. Joesph as a panther." 

Jim shook his head again, "The only other one I know is in that book of yours by Sarah something." 

"Saraid, Jim, not Sarah. And that reminds me, I gotta bug her about doing a sequel. I loved that story." 

"And the last one?" 

"It was an AU where Joseph never got out of the jungle." 

"Katrina Bowen," The Sentinel replied immediately. 

"Nope. I've got that one too. Somebody else did it." 

"Can't help you then, Chief. Try one of your many mailing lists and see if anyone remembers them." 

"Guess I'm gonna have to <sigh> but I hate bugging all those nice people out there in Watchman fandom." 

"So write a story and offer it as a bribe for not killing you." 

"That could work, wanna help me with the research?" 

"My favorite kind...." 

\--End-- 

Connor 

* * *

End The Sixty-seventh Sentinel Tidbits File. 

 


End file.
